


who's gonna catch you now?

by foxwins



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Near Death Experiences, Post-Movie, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4241547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxwins/pseuds/foxwins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing changes. The banter, they bicker, they work together seamlessly on missions and gripe about it afterwards. </p><p>(Nothing except for the fact that even though she knew what he looked like naked before, now she knows what he feels like naked and between her legs. Which is unimportant and arbitrary and not worth expending valuable mind space daydreaming about.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	who's gonna catch you now?

**Author's Note:**

> listen to the mix: http://8tracks.com/kingslanding/who-s-gonna-catch-you-now

They kind of earn a reputation. A dynamic duo, a terrible two, whatever you want to call it. It probably doesn't help that Merlin keeps giving them missions together, and they spend most of their free time together (cause neither of them really want to hang out with the old geezers the comprise the rest of the agents), and he always grabs her an extra muffin for breakfast and okay maybe they argue a little bit like an old married couple.But that reputation's not a bad thing, Roxy reasons, it just means that they're a close knit, compatible team of agents. Really. That's it.

 

Or it would be, except along with that reputation comes the totally expected and definitely not true rumor that they're fucking.

 

It's not like she hasn't thought of it. They've played the couple innumerable times on missions, slept in the same bed, even kissed a handful of times. All for the Kingsmen, of course. There's no way that Roxy would chain herself to that lummox of an agent, even if his arms are sinfully tight and his jawline is excruciatingly sharp. That's just not what she does.

 

So it's a wonder how she finds herself on top of Eggsy in the sparring room, locked in a filthy kiss that makes her hips jerk and her breath catch. But he's got a large hand tangled in her ponytail and another one creeping dangerously close to her lower back (never too low, though, 'cause he is a gentleman nowadays). It's wonderful and wet and wrong, so she pulls back from him, ignoring his pleading whine, and prepares to give him the _please don't ever talk about this ever again_ speech.

 

What comes out of her mouth is not that.

 

"You should fuck me."

 

His eyes widen. "Shit yeah."

 

With an uncharacteristic grace, he rises to his feet with her still attached to him, wrapping her legs around his waist as he moves to lock the door. There's plenty of sparring rooms, the agents won't miss this one for a little while. Hopefully. Roxy doesn't really care at this point, though, cause his hand is now 100% definitely squeezing her ass and there are so many more things for her to be thinking about than whether if some unfortunate IT guy is going to burst in on them.

 

As the lock clicks, he turns her around and forces her against the wall, hand returning to her hair to tug it loose.

 

 _Fuck_ , Roxy thinks as her hair cascades around her face. And then she takes her clothes off.

 

* * *

 

It's not like that changes anything. It's a one time thing. Roxy just had to get it out of the way, get it over with, sate her curiosity and move on with her life.

 

Not that it wasn't good, or anything. It was. It was better than good, it was great, and Roxy would really like to shake the hand of the girl who taught Eggsy to do that thing that he does with his tongue and fingers and _mmphh_. But that doesn't change the fact that this was a once-off, an anomaly, an outlier. So she turns down his offer of round two and leaves.

 

(If she's red-faced and panting when she does it's because she was sparring, god dammit.)

 

Eggsy takes the hint like a good little pup, and doesn't mention it, ever. Nothing changes. The banter, they bicker, they work together seamlessly on missions and gripe about it afterwards.

 

(Nothing except for the fact that even though she knew what he looked like naked before, now she knows what he feels like naked and between her legs. Which is unimportant and arbitrary and not worth expending valuable mind space daydreaming about.)

 

Life goes on.

 

* * *

 

"Do I get a kiss for luck, Rox?" he asks. She snorts and reloads her gun.

 

"Not bloody likely, Galahad." she responds. He pouts so excessively that Roxy feels half like gagging and half like kissing him just to shut him up.

 

She does not jump when he fires over her shoulder, taking down a perp she hadn't even seen. Roxy curses under her breath. Eggsy grins.

 

"How 'bout for that?" he says. She glares up at him and pointedly hands him more ammo.

 

"Move out, Galahad."

 

They creep along the wall, scanning their surroundings carefully. Galahad must spot something, because he twists around and fires. His back is turned for the barest second, and he's already moving back when the red light flickers to life on his shoulder blade.

 

Roxy shouts and tries to drag him away, but the shot's already rung out.

 

* * *

 

She finishes the mission and brings her partner home without blinking an eye. She shot the god damn dog and she would shoot her again.

 

Roxy's calm and collected until Eggsy's safe, all wheeled into the operating room and someone in white is telling her it's okay, it's okay. She nods, dumbly, and manages not to shake until she gets to an unoccupied room.

 

Where she screams into a pillow because she almost lost her best friend and her one-time lover or whatever the hell Eggsy is to her now and she didn't feel a damn thing. He went down and all she saw was an obstacle, a new detail of the situation. She screams and cries and screams again.

 

Roxy wipes her eyes, clears her throat, and goes to the mission debriefing cause she's a goddamn professional.

 

(The last thing on her mind is that she should probably give him a kiss for good luck when he wakes up, because he did ask for one and she did turn him down and for some reason she feels absurdly guilty, as if her kiss would have saved his sorry ass from getting shot.)

 

* * *

 

Eggsy's fine, of course. He's taken off of missions for a few weeks, and much to her displeasure so is she.

 

Merlin has a hard time justifying it, sputtering something about team dynamics and _for the love of god Rox he just got shot I'm not going to have you phoning me every five minutes on a mission to ask if he's up and blundering about yet._

 

So she stays in the infirmary with him, because what the hell else is she supposed to do? She brings playing cards and cake and news, and he regales her with some very not-true tales of his misspent youth. She laughs at him and tries very hard not to cry, because she would have missed this so badly.

 

And if she crawls into the bed beside him it's _none of your goddamn business, Merlin, there's no place to take a nap in that room_. Roxy very deliberately ignores the hand that curls around her waist, because Eggsy is still way too fucked up to be fucking other people, and he knows it.

 

(Doesn't stop him from a few good-natured tries.)

 

* * *

 

"Try not to look like someone died, Rox."

 

"Last time we were on a mission, you almost did."

 

"But I didn't."

 

"You almost did, and I'm taking this very seriously in order to make sure that doesn't happen again, because I don't know if my blood pressure can take it."

 

"Aww, Rox-Rox, were you worried about me?"

 

"You're insufferable."

 

"You love it."

 

"Oh, I do. How did you know?"

 

"You've got a look about you. A look that says: 'Eggsy may be insufferable but he is also a sexy beast and I wanna--'"

 

"Cram his pretty face in?"

 

"You think I'm pretty? Well I never."

 

"Just get in the car, Unwin."

 

* * *

 

Hong Kong's nice. Their mission is easy. Eggsy is a cockhead, as usual.

 

She's missed him. She still misses him.

 

* * *

 

She's in Eggsy's bed. She's in his bed, and he's in the hotel shower, water streaming down his chiseled shoulders and sculpted abs and--

 

Roxy twists around in the sheets and thinks about getting up. She doesn’t.

 

The bathroom door opens, and she tilts her head to see a sickeningly tousled and damp Eggsy make his way out, with nothing more than a towel draped around his hips.

 

Her mouth might actually be going dry.

 

He cocks his brow at her, making his way over to the bed. She scrambles up onto her knees to bring them closer in height (and it's not like she's gratified by the way his gaze rakes hotly over her bare skin).

 

"You're in my bed." His voice is half accusation, half tentative question. She straightens up even more, reaching out to brush the still-pink scar, savoring the way he inhales as the callouses on her finger catch on the ridge of scar tissue.

 

"I am." Easily, casually, as if it were nothing at all, she drapes her arms around his shoulders and presses her mouth to his ear. "Want to join me?"

 

Eggsy's response is to lean forwards and press her solidly into the bed. She laughs and tugs at the towel, and the world seems alright again.

 

* * *

 

They don't really talk about it. Don't hold hands or go on dates, because that's not what they are. For the most part, they are Lancelot and Galahad, partners in not-crime.

 

Sometimes they're Roxy and Eggsy, though. When they're waiting after a mission or stuck in a hotel, or hell, even bored on a Tuesday afternoon at HQ.

 

Moscow. Berlin. Vienna. File room A5. They tear each other's clothes off, and then pick up the pieces.

 

Sometimes she'll stay for round two (okay, most times she stays) but sometimes she leaves, too. He never chases after her, but he makes puppy eyes that she pretends not too see.

 

It's easy. It's fun.

 

Roxy wants more. And based off the way Eggsy'll cling just a little too tight when she tries to wriggle out of his bed, she'd guess that he does too.

 

(She still slaps his hands away. Bugger once princess and he thinks he can touch whatever he wants.)

 

* * *

 

Her feet ache. Her head pounds. Her shoulder screams.

 

Roxy smiles and purrs at the drug lord seated next to her.

 

"Mr. Miamoto, how ingenious of you. This was simply inspired. I'm at a loss for words, really." Her hand smooths down the front of his tux as his arm comes to sweep around her, fingers curling underneath the hem of her cocktail dress.

 

She can almost feel the vibration of Eggsy's growl in her ear. Turning her head ever so slightly, she catches his eye across the crowded club.

 

_Don't. You. Dare._

 

His eyes narrow, annoyed, and he turns away. She turns away too, and continues to beam at her target.

 

Her skin crawls as his fingers start to circle on the insider of her knees, cold and clammy and smooth. He's anathema to Eggsy, and she feels it with every moment he touches her.

 

She keeps smiling, drops the tracker into his champagne, and pretends not to care when his hand cups her breast.

 

When they have their evidence, Eggsy smashes his face in. For good measure, he says.

 

 _For me_ , she thinks.

 

* * *

 

The glass neck of the bottle slides against her palm, sloshing the sake across Eggsy's bare back. He moans into her mouth, licking the liquor off her lips before snatching the bottle from her.

 

Tipping her back, he pours sake down her neck, watching it bead down the sinews of her throat and soak into the think black lace of her bra before blazing a hot trail down her neck with his mouth, getting drunk off of the taste of Roxy's skin.

 

(And alcohol.)

 

He's just about to reach her breast when she pulls him back up to her. Roxy's hand cradles his face, leaning is as if to kiss him. She stops just shy of pressing their lips together, though, and they breathe the drunken air for a heartbeat, for an eternity.

 

She exhales first. "You really didn't have to beat him up like that, you know."

 

"I wanted to." he says. Her fingers tighten, fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulder.

 

"You shouldn't've. It wasn' necessary." she says. He takes one of her earlobes in his teeth, and she gasps as his mouth moves to her ear.

 

"He was touchin' you, and you didn't want it." As if it was that simple.

 

"Of course I didn't want it. M' a big girl, Eggs, I can handle it." she says. His arms tighten around her, pulling her flush to him.

 

"Don' care. I didn't like it." he says. She can feel the vibrations of his voice rattle though her, and she wants to moan.

 

"Merlin'll yell at you," she whispers, dropping kisses along his jaw, savoring the way he tenses when she sucks a bruise onto a pulse point beating in his neck.

 

"Worth it," he grunts, and in a smooth motion picks her up and deposits her on the bed. Roxy sighs in contentment as his large body covers hers, wrapping her limbs lazily around him.

 

"Hey Eggs?" she murmurs, causing him to still his movements above her.

 

"Yeah, Rox?"

 

"Thanks."

 

"Anythin' for you, babe." He catches her lips in his, and she holds on like he's the only thing tethering her to Earth.

 

For all her alcohol-addled brain knows, he might be.

 

(He gasps out _I love you_ at some point, but she's too drunk to hear and he's too drunk to realize that he said it.)

 

* * *

 

'Stranded' is not a good word for what they are now. Merlin calls it a 'temporary setback'. Eggsy calls it vacation and kicks back the moment they receive the transmission. Roxy calls it 'stuck on an island with really nothing to do but laze around the hotel room because the entire contents of the Pacific Ocean are falling from the sky'.

 

Standing in the rain doesn't make her feel like she thinks it should. Leaning over the railing, Roxy stares at the streets fifty floors below her, thinks about screaming, and decides not to. Vaguely, she registers Eggsy calling her name from inside the hotel room. He's watching her with an expression magnetic enough to pull her back into the room with him.

 

Her clothes drip water onto the floor as she strips out of them, right in the middle of their hotel room. They fall in a wet pile at her feet. Roxy's not any less soaked for the lack of them.

 

"Goin' somewhere?" Eggsy doesn't even move, just sweeps his eyes up and down her dripping form. She kicks off her shoes for good measure.

 

"Your bed, most likely." She turns, not even needing to look behind her to know that he's following.

 

* * *

 

"We really shouldn't be doing this," she gasps, fingers tangling in his hair, whining when his mouth bruises her clavicle. He glances up at her, burning a hole right through her with his gaze.

 

"You gonna stop me?"

 

"Not a chance in hell."

 

* * *

 

"Just don't do it on the desk."

 

Roxy looks up from the paperwork she's filling out to glance questioningly at Merlin. "Do what?"

 

"You know."

 

"I don't, actually."

 

He heaves a sigh and rubs a hand over his scalp. "You and Eggsy. It. You two. Not on the desk, please."

 

Roxy's mouth is sputtering before her mind has even caught up. "Me? Eggsy? Why… we're not…"

 

Merlin looks at her over her glasses. "So you are, huh?"

 

"No we-- why would you think that?"

 

"If you weren't", he continues, filling out his forms, "you wouldn't be this frazzled." Roxy's mouth tightens as she realizes that she's caught in the trap- Merlin is just as foxy as any other Kingsman, and he's outplayed her. She sighs, resigned, and resumes her paper-pushing.

 

"So what if we are? You gonna throw us out?" she challenges.

 

"Don't be ridiculous. It's not against the rules. Just. Don’t." Each word is punctuated by a tap of Merlin's pen on the desk. "Do. It. On. The. Desk. I have to work here."

 

She snorts. "We'll do our best to keep our hormonal coupling away from your workspace, Merlin."

 

"Thank God."

 

* * *

 

"Let's do it on the desk."

 

"Thought you'd never ask."

 

* * *

 

"How's Daisy?" Roxy doesn't look at Eggsy when she speaks, mostly because she's glued to the sight of a rifle. Shot.

 

The spent rifle clip steams in the frigid air, and Lancelot refills the clip with calm efficiency.

 

"She's good," replies Eggsy, his response fading off as he spots something in his sight. Shot. Galahad doesn't even have to look down to notice that he's out of ammo before Lancelot hands him some more.

 

Silence. Shot. Shot. Shot.

 

"Fuckin' cold here."

 

"Tell me about it."

 

* * *

 

"Fucking Siberia."

 

Agents Lancelot and Galahad burst into the plane, shivering and glinting with frost. After stripping each other of out cold-stiff gear, Eggsy gather up Roxy into his arms and the two crouch under a heated blanket, wincing as heat returns to numbed limbs. She nestles deeper between his thighs, intent on sapping as much heat from him as possible.

 

He brushes snow off her hair and presses his lips into the crown of her head.

 

(She can feel him smile.)

 

A voice cracks out from the cockpit, smarmy Scottish accent and all. "Keep it in the pants, you two!"

 

"Fuck you, Merlin," Eggsy snaps back, "we did it on the desk." There's a mimed gagging noise over the loudspeaker.

 

"Lancelot, I specifically gave you instructions NOT TO--"

 

"If you can send us to fucking Siberia for a month, we're gonna do whatever we damn well please on the desk, understood?"

 

There's an ungentlemanly snort. "Fair enough."

 

Eggsy barks out a laugh that turns into a gasp when Roxy wiggles her ass into him.

 

"Whatever we want on the desk, and whatever we want wherever, too."

 

"Don't you dare, Lancelot. Don't you fucking dare."  
 

* * *

 

"Do you ever wonder what the hell we're doing?"

 

"Sometimes. Don't mean we should stop."

 

* * *

 

"Lancelot, on your five. Terminating them now."

 

"Roger that, Galahad."

 

Lancelot sees Galahad take out some of the soldiers before dropping into a roll and dragging her into cover behind a corner. It's not the most graceful, but based off of the amount of gunfire that just sprouted behind her, it's necessary.

 

He's breathing heavily, hair disarrayed and lip bloodied. Crouched down next to him the way she is, she can almost feel his heartbeat thumping through his torn suit.

 

Gunfire and shouting rings into their ears. Lancelot turns and launches a hand grenade out of the cover, and after the explosion there is silence enough for Roxy to turn back to her lover. Her fingers trace his jaw and cheekbones, delicately, worshipfully. He watches her with heavy lidded eyes, lips barely parted.

 

Roxy leans down and kisses him just long enough for Eggsy to tilt his head and try to deepen it, and then she pulls back.

 

"Time to go." Lancelot hefts the pistol in her hand and steps out of cover into the line of fire.

 

Eggsy grins after her until he spots the blipping red light on the wall. He starts to shout her name, but she's already down.

 

* * *

 

"Roxy!"

 

Her world is dripping down around her, mind spinning as everything whirls and screeches. Vaguely, she registers being picked up in a strong pair of arms and

 

everything goes dark.

 

* * *

 

A calloused hand, cradling her face. Muffled shouting.

 

"Lancelot, I need you to respond. Wake up, soldier."

 

Her head lolls back.

 

* * *

 

"Roxy, baby, you need to listen to me."

 

She's trying to scream, but no sound's coming out. Eggsy is shooting someone and glancing down nervously every few seconds. People are bleeding and dying all around her and her lungs feel like they're collapsing but she'll be damned if she doesn't tell him at least once.

 

"I love you."

 

Either he doesn't hear her, or he doesn't want to.

 

* * *

 

Roxy's okay. She's alright, she'll live, and honestly Eggsy looks more chewed up than she does. He's mussed up and tired and scruffy and she wants to pull him into the cot with her and fuck him until he doesn’t look quite so glum anymore. The pounding in her head is telling her that's probably not a good idea, but she still kind of wants to.

 

(The nurses tell her that he's been at her side since she got out of critical. She shrugs at their somewhat suspicious looks and tells them that he's just repaying a favor.)

 

It's déjà vu, except this time she's in the cot and Eggsy is the one falling asleep in her lap. She cards her fingers through his hair and wonders about what will happen when one of them dies.

 

Probably nothing good.

 

Her fingers must tighten, because Eggsy perks up and blinks blearily at her. "You alright, love?"

 

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" She smooths his hair back, slips her fingers around to cradle his jaw.

 

He chuckles, a low huff that rocks the bed. "You did almost get blown up."

 

"All in a day's work."

 

"Yeah, but you still owe me one."

 

"Consider it repayment."

 

"Alright, then." He smiles, actually smiles, and Roxy knows that she's gotten herself into one hell of a mess because she would get almost-blown-up a thousand times over for that smile. She shot the dog and would shoot it again, and again, and again, as many times as it took.

 

He wouldn't, and that's kind of why she loves him.

 

* * *

 

"This has great potential for cocking everything up, you know."

 

"I know."

 

"Do you think…"

 

" _No_."

 

"Good."

 

* * *

 

"Eggs?" Roxy gasps, fingers twisting in the sheets.

 

He pauses, muscles tensing with the effort. "Yeah?"

 

"I think I love you."

 

He pushes into her, leverages himself so that he can hover above her and look her in the eye. "Really?"

 

"Yeah." She's watching him carefully, noting each little tic and reaction. _Pupils dilated, pulse racing, breath heaving, sinews standing out in his neck oh look there's that bruise, there's that scar holy hell I love you._

 

"Fuck." He kisses her in the sort of way that lewd novels make her dream about, except so much better.

 

She's more than a little dizzy when he's done, but not too delirious to realize that he hasn't really responded. He shifts his weight to one hand and cradles her face with the other.

 

"Me too," he whispers, and their smiles fit together like puzzle pieces.

**Author's Note:**

> if I have to write all the eggsy/roxy fic myself then so be it the lack of it is c r i m i n a l


End file.
